


I want you to date me.

by NextWarden



Series: College AU (but with powers?) [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bumbleby - Freeform, F/F, Love Confessions, Party, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:42:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29469639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NextWarden/pseuds/NextWarden
Summary: Blake says on a balcony during a party.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long
Series: College AU (but with powers?) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2176005
Comments: 4
Kudos: 48





	I want you to date me.

"I want you to date me," Blake Belladonna says, her eyes playful but her gaze steady despite the buzz that has taken them both.

  
"Pardon?", Yang replies, almost dropping her glass on the wooden floor, almost not caring for the hell Weiss and Pyrrha would put her through if she did.

  
"I want you to date me."

  
The voice is steady, assured, perhaps a little too assured, and so, so sultry. As beautifully dangerous as the flower that is her name. If the rest of the party had not already faded in the background, as literally as it did figuratively when their eyes met ages earlier now - they're on the east-side balcony on the second floor, alone, in the relative quiet of the night -, it would have now, as quickly as her heart is bombing into her chest. She realizes she's both struggling to breathe and not to breathe. Both trying to stay alive and live in this moment for all she can, and to let all concepts of time slip away and let it never end.

  
She glances around, trying to get a grip on what changed in this reality, trying to find the seams that will allow her to unravel the great conspiracy that had woven events to bring them to this exact moment. She waits for cameras to drop, a crew to burst out of the room and shout "Surprise! This is NTV and you've been Prank'd!", as they dance around her and circus music begins to play. She tries to find the faults and the cracks as the continents begin to drift apart, revealing brimstone and fire as the Devil laughs in her face, bursting her hopes with his painful fork. But none of that happens and then she feels the gaze steady on her, on her eyes, on her lips, on her freckles and her hands, on her. Her. Blake Belladonna is looking at her as she asks that, she's looking at her and despite all the bravado that she has draped herself in, there's something in the liquid gold of those orbs, something very akin to fragility, to hesitation, to openness. As if she'd start running the second Yang breathed in again, as if she'd start running and never stop, to the edge of the world and beyond, nevermind having to jump into the endless unknown. Nothing would ever be as scary as being in the face of this moment.

  
And Yang knows. Oh boy, does she know. The goosebumps on her arms can attest to that, the cold sweat dripping all along her spine can attest to that, the instantaneous expansion of her eyes can attest to that, the tightening of her grip on her glass, verging on destructive, can attest to that, the flush ruby of her skin can attest to that. Ruby. She somehow manages to spot the brunette somewhere in the corner of her eye, a red streak mingling into white. She doesn't see her face but she can see the knowing smile, the proud and playful grin that she would put on display to light the night if she could. She crashes back to the hard and cold ground, somehow more welcoming than anything the lush world has to offer, when Blake shifts her weight. She realizes her breath is still hitched, she's still frozen in place, eyes wide. And then she realizes the moment has stretched on slightly too long. In slow yet absolutely clear motion, like an action scene on a movie screen, the confidence slips. She sees the furrow of the brows deepen ever so slightly, the slight trembling of the lip, synchronous with that of the hand, the gilded sea somehow melts even more to give a misty shine to the window that gives view within, and Yang swears she can almost hear it crack. The sight before her is so mesmerizing - it's always mesmerizing, has been since they first laid eyes on each others - that she almost doesn't react, so still it is almost too late. She sees the blink, the movement of the lips, and the turn of the shoulders as the meaning of the sounds finally reach her muddled mind.

  
"S- sorry, this… this was a mistake."

  
It's the first catch of the breath, willed to be concealed but escaping in between words that finally wakes her up from this slumber she finds herself to have fallen. Her throat tightens, it's on fire. So is her hand as she catches the fleeing wrist, firm but ever so gentle, like one would use to keep a bird from flying away. She can feel the heat in her own palm and she's sure Blake can too, she sees her flinch. And for a beat she thinks the beautiful, wonderful being that stands before her, that just shattered her world by answering every and all prayers she's had since this pocket universe of theirs exploded into existence, is going to jerk her arm away in pain. But another beat passes and she doesn't move anything but her eyes, straight to Yang's, scared, scarred, but somehow, despite it all, hopeful. That's what break her too, that's what emboldens her too. The heat is there, blazing under her skin and on top of Blake's. Neither of them seem to mind.

  
"Sorry."

  
It's all she says as she lets go. All she can say. She means so much more; the breach of personal space, the knowledge that having been allowed such proximity does not entitle her to it, the fact that she's slow on the uptake, not having had the courage herself, and so much more. But her eyes tell another story, a story that she hopes Blake can read. She extends her hand again, not taking, this time, but offering. Their gazes are linked, unable to detach, unwilling. Finally, slowly, with a smile widening impossibly and a voice as steady as she can manage, with all the care and the tenderness she can muster, she too shatters Blake Belladonna's world.

  
"Yes."

  
She feels cool skin upon her palm, hesitant at first but determined then.

  
"Yes?"

  
She's unsure, Yang feels it as she feels the wind in her hair. The girl is unsure. Blake Belladonna, goddess among men - among women too -, she who can get the world to bend its knee weakly with a curl of her finger and a bat of her smokey eye, she who made a world only to break it and make it anew. She's unsure. And Yang can't get enough of it. It's not sadistic, it's not for the fun of it, she's not trying to make her doubt or crumble on herself. But knowing Blake can at a single word of hers, at a single gesture, seeing the open and real, raw hope, the emotion behind it all, she almost crumbles herself. If it was anyone else, any other soul on the planet, perhaps they would have under so much pressure, or perhaps they'd have made the brunette vanish into dust with a single, awkward wrong move. But she's not anyone, she's not just anyone, she's Yang Fucking Xiao Long, she's the girl the girl of her dreams just asked out despite all odds and all her fears. She's the Chosen One's Chosen One and that, that's worth an apocalypse.

  
"Yes," she repeats, unable to contain her smile, threatening to explode under the conflicting gravitas.

  
It gets even wider, if that's possible, brighter and toothier. It gets… everything. And Blake devours that everything. Their fingers interlace. A step is taken, hesitant. A second one, more assured. And finally the Pandorica opens again and then nothing happens. Nothing happens for a while. Nothing happens for so long, actually, that when Space seems to crash back aground them and Time starts to turn its gears again it's so overwhelming they almost fall. But they can't fall, 'cause they're already falling, they've been falling for so long now that they're not even sure when they started or if there's actually a bottom anymore. They're not even sure they're even falling. Is that what flying feels like? God, they'd make millions by just selling the recipe to Red Bull, Yang manages to think as their physical manifests separate long enough for them to look into each other's eyes. Blake keeps her arms tight around Yang's waist, Yang keeps their bodies pressed against each other, melting in the warmth. Only their faces are apart, eyes in eyes, soul in soul. That doesn't last long, though.

  
"Yes…", Blake repeats the word, breathy and marvelled.

  
The soft brush of her breath on Yang's lips falls on the scale as light as a feather, tipping it. Lilac eyes search golden ones, asking for a permission that has long been given, and flutter shut as their lips collide, magnetic. Surprisingly, this time, nothing changes. The world doesn't vanish, Yang's mind doesn't break, even Time only seems to seep into the background a little. It's the opposite, actually. Everything is here, now, right here, right now. It happens. Not all at once, just, now, and here. She's rubbing her mouth against Blake Belladonna's, and Blake Belladonna is rubbing her mouth back with her own mouth, Yang only thinks. Okay, maybe she lied, maybe her mind did break a little bit. But it's good, because it's happening, and it's happening here and now. They kiss, tenderly, unendingly, through breaths and giggles, through smile and salt, through past and present, exploring each other's hair and jaws and face and hips and backs and hands and hearts.

  
When it ends is actually when it begins. The party is all around their quiet little escape and they know they have to go back, they have to leave their own private limbo in order to return to the mortal world. It's a little bit scary, but they aren't really worried. The Underworld has already had its Orpheus and its Eurydice. It takes a while but they eventually do. It doesn't feel like going back, though, it feels like entering a new world, brighter and livelier. Yang is smiling as bright as the Sun, holding Blake's hand as she guides her to the crowd, and Blake is smiling back, more subdued but a Moon of her own. And when their bubble blows and the water rushes in, Yang almost expects them to lose their footing, to sink into the depths, but it's shallow and they waddle in the cool waves without a care in the world. It's the opposite, even. Perhaps the realization that Yang Xiao Long and Blake Belladonna love each other has emboldened Blake Belladonna and Yang Xiao Long, or perhaps, as their names seem to give away, Yang Xiao Long and Blake Belladonna have always been bold. Because the second they begin, it flows as naturally as if they had traced the river themselves.

  
"So, you two, huh?", Pyrrha and Sun, the surprisingly unlikely yet unchallenged winning team of the night's Interdorm Grand Beer Pong Cup stare at them as they enter the large room.

  
"Yep.", Yang smiles broadly, popping a cocky 'p'.

  
"Us," Blake nods, her arm on Yang's shoulder.

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of got into the fandom by proxy (one of many) and couldn't help but try my hand at a little something with the characters.  
> Might do more later.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed.


End file.
